


Adjacent

by JayceCarter



Series: Random Fallout Shenanigans [8]
Category: Fallout 4
Genre: Angst, F/M, I'm Sorry, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Unhealthy Relationships, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-26
Updated: 2017-01-26
Packaged: 2018-09-20 02:07:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,098
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9470633
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JayceCarter/pseuds/JayceCarter
Summary: Nick will never fit into Nora's life, so he sits downstairs, adjacent to everything he wants.





	

Moans and sweat filled the space of Home Plate, echoing off the metal walls. Nick lit a cigarette and dropped his head against the wall, beside the front door.

 

Too bad none of them were his. They never were.

 

Nora was upstairs with some man, the man of the evening. Nick didn’t know his name, didn’t care, doubted Nora even knew. It was part of their routine now: Fight, shower, eat, pick up men for Nora to sleep with. And Nick, the poor shmuck, just sat by the door in case anyone got too rough.

 

But, God, with the bruises on Nora she didn’t might a bit of roughness.

 

A gasp floated down from the bedroom upstairs, and Nick pulled a screwdriver from his pocket. He clamped the cigarette between his lips and went to tightening the bolts in his metal hand, ignoring the shaking that made the job harder.

 

How long had they been doing this?

 

Weeks? Months? A watched pot never boils and listening to the dame you love have sex with other men last forever.

 

But, it was the closest he’d get, so he sat watch downstairs, adjacent to where he wanted to be, as if by proximity he could pretend things were different.

 

He’d seen her, once, an accident. He’d walked outside Dugout Inn looking for her, only to find her by the seats with someone. Legs, arms, body parts greeted him, nothing but desperation and striving. She’d look beautiful, but frustrated, always seeking, striving for something she couldn’t get. And by the look on her face after each time, she never found what she was looking for.

 

So things got rougher, uglier. Bruises started showing up, she’d limp.

 

He hated it.

 

Nick sat guard, a glorified Mr. Handy. Is that what she saw? Just a Codsworth with a stupid coat and hat? The pathetic eunuch who waited for her, who sat by the door like a shadow of a man.

 

He flexed his hand, the bolts tight again, though never for long. Years of use had stripped most of them, decimated his skin, left him even less than the Gen 2’s they tore through daily. Sometimes he wondered, if he took off his costume, would she even see the difference? Would she mistake him for one of them? Just another synth, only a little better trained.

 

God, he wanted her. He dropped his hand between his legs, to the flat space, the emptiness that reminded him he could never be up there with her. Maybe that was why she’d never looked at him, why would she? He didn’t even have the parts.

 

Footsteps brought his attention to the man coming down the stairs. He buttoned his pants, hair disheveled. He gave Nick a nod, a polite acknowledgement, before leaving.

 

Nick wanted to put a bullet through his brain.

 

Nora came down next, and Nick’s brain stuttered.

 

He whistled low. “Those are some nasty marks.”

 

She looked away, pulled her hair down to cover the damage on her cheek. It would bruise into a black eye, a split lip. The shirt she had on didn’t hide the bruises at her thighs, on her arms.

 

Always more, always harder, always searching.

 

One day she wouldn’t walk back down.

 

“No need to hide ‘em doll, I’ve seen ‘em already. Come on, I’ll get a stimpack.”

 

She held the wall as she walked, though judging by the slamming of the bed frame into the wall he wasn’t shocked she’d be sore, hurting. She sat on the couch while Nick brought over a med kit.

 

“Thanks,” she said, avoiding his gaze.

 

 “Why do you do this?” The words leapt from his mouth before he could think about them. He’d never addressed it, never talked about it. This was just their life, and he’d accepted it. He brushed the hair she’d used to hide the marks out of the way.

 

Purple bloomed across her face.

 

“Just sex.”

 

“You let ‘em hurt you. It’s getting worse. What are you looking for?”

 

She folded her legs and he caught sight of the finger marks on her thighs. His metal hand wouldn’t just bruise, it would draw blood. “I don’t know. Something, something they never have. I want to feel something real.”

 

“Well, these bruises are pretty damned real.”

 

“At first, they helped. When someone touched me, it was like a spark, something that jolted me back alive. But, it stopped working, until one man yanked my hair and I felt it again, that moment of feeling, of really being alive, of something real. Then that stopped working to.”

 

“You keep going like this, trying to capture some high, you’re gonna not wake up one time. This-“ He touched her cheek, “This is gonna kill you.”

 

“Maybe it’s worth it. Valut-tec was testing long term cryo freezing, right? We were a test. I think, maybe-“ she met his gaze, her left eye already swelling closed, “-maybe I died there, too. Maybe you can’t live this long and still really be alive. I think whatever inside me was real, my soul or spirit or whatever the fuck you call it, maybe it’s gone already, and this shell is all that’s left. But sometimes I touch something, just graze it, and I feel that spark, and it’s worth it to feel that.”

 

Nick frowned, breaking her gaze to grab the stimpack. He jammed it into her thigh, and she didn’t even twitch. He had to have the bruises gone, couldn’t see them anymore. Each fingerprint, it stopped his brain from working, like a focal point he couldn’t look away from.

 

“You ever think the problem isn’t what but who?”

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“You’re reaching, sweetheart, looking for something in strangers. Maybe what you need isn’t a stranger, maybe you’re looking for something more, a real connection.”

 

“You can’t have that out here. There’s nothing real anymore. Everyone is just trying to use you until they can kill you.”

 

Nick leapt off the cliff. “I’m not doing that.”

 

She met his gaze and smiled.

 

And his heart broke, or whatever damned piece of machinery they put there, by all the sweet ignorance he saw in her face.

 

“No, you’re not. You’re the only friend I got out here.” She leaned against his side, laying her head on his shoulder. She hadn’t even said no, because she’d never see him that way, never even consider they could be that way, that he might be suggesting it. Just a Mr. Handy with a better costume. “I’ll be okay. I’ll be more careful, alright?”

 

“Yeah, Doll, alright.”


End file.
